No More Requiem
by Aliet Faslami
Summary: Jendai's reflects on Merana's death and makes a decision about his life. PG13 because of what he thinks about. Read the end of Collateral Damage first to understand


This is a short, sort of an in-between fic. Takes place after Collateral Damage and before Aftermath. I only own Jendai and Merana. All IZ people belong to the Almighty Skinniest. Oh, and the song belongs to Mariah Carey or however you spell her name. Heh, I know. I'm obsessed with puttin songs in stories. ^_^;;  
  
  
  
No More Requiem   
  
The bar was small, stank of humans, and the air heavy with the smoke of their tobacco-laden cigarettes. It was dimly lit by the amber eminence from a few scattered overhead lights. Dust floated through the air, only visible in the light that it darted away from. In the semi-darkness was a perfect place to lose yourself. A round bar dominated the center of the room, classic barstools surrounding its aged wooden "glory." Smaller tables cluttered the rest of the floor, their gristly occupants busying themselves with alcohol, cards, or stories of women drudged up from the dregs of too much booze. A few misused dartboards hung from twisted nails, their darts long since broken, stolen or destroyed by customers. Far off in one corner, an old seventies jukebox played softly, drowned out by the raucous voices of humans.  
It was the perfect place to go to forget. Forget your pain in a shot of whatever it was you drank. Or maybe you smoked to forget what plagued you. This bar was the perfect place to do either.   
One figure sat alone at the round bar, hunched over a small glass of vodka tonic like he wanted to be invisible, his long coat draped over the barstool, hiding ripped blue jeans and a wrinkled white shirt. He did a good job of it. Nobody spoke to him, save the barkeep, asking him if he wanted more to drink. Always he would nod, and receive more of the same clear alcohol. Never a word from those lips. Finally, a woman, over- stimulated with the intoxication of far too much liquor and the advocating of her friends, dared to saunter close to him and slid into the seat beside him. He didn't acknowledge her arrival which made her impatient. "Hey," she slurred, giving him the most drunken of smiles. "I like you. Let's get outta here an go someplace private." Her hand slid over to rest on his knee as a promise of what might come should he accept her proposal.   
To no one's surprise, the hand was slapped away. He seemed to wake from a dream, blinking several times before speaking. "Go away." His tenor voice was tired, yet unchanged by drink. "Leave me alone."  
Still, she persisted. "Come on, baby. I can show you a fun time," her slur had become more of a purr.   
"I said leave me alone." He looked over at the drunken woman now, and she was struck by the sharp insistence in his dull blue eyes. Blonde hair fell delicately over those eyes, casting a shadow there that added to the look of exhaustion and sorrow that already graced his face. "I know perfectly well what you want, and I don't want anything to do with you. Get away from me." Despite the overwhelming calm, his voice frightened her back to the waiting comfort of her equally inebriated friends.   
With a long, sad sigh, Jendai Kaalae finished off his drink and looked up at the clock. It was around two AM, or so said the dusty, probably slow machine. He'd been sitting in the same place for five hours, drinking human liquor. It was time he left. The little incident a few moments ago proved that. Carefully, he counted out the right amount of cash, placed it on the bar and left, pointedly ignoring the scoffs and whistles aimed in his direction.   
It was a miserable night. Chilly, with a light drizzle coming down and a gentle breeze which, insured that nobody could escape getting a tiny bit damp. Jendai stepped out into the weather, mentally thanking Zim for the use of all that paste earlier in the day. He took a deep breath of the city air. He was in a bad part of town, one where graffiti and small-time crime was rampant, where walking the streets at this hour could sometimes be your undoing. But after the occurrences four weeks ago, nothing frightened him... just as nothing could make him go anywhere without one of Zim's blasters. His "feet" made satisfying sounds on the wet pavement as his coat flapped in the breeze. The miserable weather fit his mood perfectly, the mood that hadn't lifted in a very long time.  
Of course, his wounds were healed by now, only mere scars to add to the collection, as were his clothes mended. The only thing that pained him now were the wounds no machine could heal. The wounds no one could see. He walked slowly down the street, remembering and trying to forget. You couldn't forget pain, no matter how hard you tried to drown it in drinks, lose it in laughter, or bury it in the back of your mind. It always haunted you. The memories of pain. The memories of how things used to be before some cataclysm ended it. He'd struggled with them enough when Merana had been alive to comfort him... but now that she was dead...   
Jendai frantically shook his head, as if he could clear the thoughts from it physically. Abruptly, he stopped, trying to decide where he should go, what he should do from here, from where he stood. A small thought worked its way into his subconscious that willed his body to obey.   
In a matter of minutes he stood before her grave. Zim had insisted he do what he wished with her body, and this had been the only thing he knew how to do. He'd buried her. Buried her out of sight under the cover of some bushes in a human cemetery. Irkens usually used a form of cremation on their dead, but Merana hadn't been Irken and Jendai had no idea how to go about doing it. Marked with a circle of polished white rocks, it was, in his opinion, the most beautiful of all the graves here. Unfortunately, it did little to ease the pain of her death. As he knelt before the place where she lay forever, resting on his useless legs, all the memories of the years he'd spent with her returned to haunt him, filling his head. They were heavy in the air like the smell of flowers that came each spring.   
  
...No I can't forget this evening  
Or your face as you were leaving  
But I guess that's just the way  
The story goes...  
  
Her smile filled his mind. He remembered how she would gently laugh at his attempts to write the human language, then correct him. He could almost feel her hands over his, directing the flow of the stupid, fragile pencils he constantly broke. Not all of them accidentally. The images of her being sad, crying softly whenever she was alone flooded him. He regretted that he never found out why she cried. He regretted he had always been to afraid to enter her room, hold her tight, comfort her until the tears went away. It was too late for regrets now, Jendai supposed. He never should have been in his workroom that night. He should have been watching that stupid movie on television with her. Should have been by her side to protect her.  
  
...You always smile but in your eyes  
Your sorrow shows  
Yes it shows  
No I can't forget tomorrow  
When I think of all my sorrow  
When I had you there  
But then I let you go...  
  
It still seemed incredible to believe. Even after all this time. Merana had loved him. The one thing on this planet worth living for had loved him... and he had never known. To be fair, he'd never let her know how he felt either. Never told her the only reason he didn't try and die a second time was because of her. Because she cared whether he was alive or not. She cared when the rest of Irk did not. His head fell into his hands. "I should have told you," he murmured to the grave. "I should have told you but I was too stupid to. To afraid..."  
  
...And now it's only fair  
That I should let you know  
What you should know...  
  
  
What did one do when the only thing they had to live for was gone? The dismal abyss Merana had once rescued the broken, defeated Jendai Kaalae from was looking awfully welcoming once more. Part of him insisted that it would be easier to die now that the Djemy was gone, now that there were so many weapons at his disposal. Those dark thoughts were slowly returning, brought on by the same cataclysm that had brought them on the first time. Merana's sweet presence had kept them at bay before... but now... now he knew what was true.  
  
...I can't live  
If living is without you  
I can't live  
I can't give anymore  
I can't live  
If living is without you  
I can't give  
I can't give anymore...  
  
"I loved you so very much," he whispered, tracing one finger over the nearest stone. In his mind, he steadfastly knew what he was eventually going to condemn himself to, but he was unsure when. "It's my fault you died." Now guilt was adding to his growing list of reasons why he had to do it. Life on Earth without her just wouldn't be... wouldn't be life. It would be a half-life. Something lived between a dream, a memory, and reality. A shadow's existence. No one should live the life of a shadow. He didn't cry. Tears had long since escaped him. Tears had been banished the day the memories had once again started chasing him through his mind.  
  
...Well I can't forget this evening  
Or your face as you were leaving  
But I guess that's just the way  
The story goes  
You always smile but in your eyes  
Your sorrow shows  
Yes it shows...  
  
He finally got up. There was no point in staying here. No matter how mush he wished she would come back, no matter how much he didn't want to, she wasn't going to come back and he was going to have to do it. "I can't continue," he muttered, walking away. The path had turned to mud by now. It was later than he'd thought. Zim must be freaking out with worry over his disappearance. "Not on his hellhole. Not without you, Mer..." He shoved his hands in his pockets, finally recognizing what was afflicting him. "And you're not here to make me take the medicine either..." As much as he hated the stuff, it was a terrifying thought. Sinking lower and lower into this state of mind until...  
  
...I can't live  
If living is without you  
I can't live  
I can't give any more...  
  
Jendai Kaalae, the picture of depression with his head down, his hands shoved roughly in the pockets of his soaked coat, walked away into the darkness, leaving the resting place of his beloved Merana Sali behind. 


End file.
